


Piercing

by chains_archivist



Series: Piercing By boots [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Boys in Chains, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 03:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3635403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan wears a red sash, marking him as a Jedi who communicates through sexual relationships. Qui-Gon wears a white one, but not for long.</p><p>By boots</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piercing

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors). 
> 
> RavenD asked for a ear-fic romance, I completely missed the point, but this one's for you nonetheless Raven :)

The Supreme Chancellor wore a discrete nose stud in his left nostril. The small speck of gold winked as he delivered his public address, urging inter-republic abolishment of slavery. Finis was eloquent and persuasive, his soft blue eyes peered out sincerely from every monitor on Coruscant. And Obi-Wan turned away from those eyes, head lowered and scowling, as he passed the large screen before the Temple Fountain of Gathering.  
  
Walking quickly away from the group of cheering knights, slapping each other on the back, Obi-Wan caught snatches of exclamations.  
  
"I'd go to the outer rim for that man!" said one robust male voice.  
  
"I as well!" added a smooth female voice, very young, possibly still a padawan. "He stands for everything that is good in this Republic."  
  
"He has good ideals, and can apply them. May the Force be with him and us too." A calmer but no less passionate statement of admiration came from a Master.  
  
"I think we are already," a small chuckle rang out, followed by a long pause of bemused silence.  
  
Obi-Wan hurried on. It was less sunny once he got inside the part of the temple housing living quarters for master and apprentice pairs. Some small indoor fountains were trickling, making the hallways cool and gave a fresh scent to the corridors. Obi-Wan blinked away his headache in the shady area. He took a drink from one water works, wiped the weariness off his face on his dampened robe sleeve and walked inside their suite with pulled back shoulders.  
  
The common room was quiet, but Obi-Wan could sense his master was in, hidden somewhere in the rainforest growth of the indoor planets Qui-Gon nursed. Obi-Wan turned around a stack of documents and calligraphy things draped over by Sietras leaves and found the older man. Qui-Gon was curled up on top of his robes, all of which was crumpled terribly to make the wicker chair in which he sat more comfortable. The sun light came in, filtered by the greenery and dropped shadows on the dear old face. Obi-Wan smiled at the sight of Qui-Gon's gently heaving chest, swallowing his happy greeting. Without further delay, Obi-Wan began to strip. His took off his robes and carefully levitated it to cover Qui-Gon, keeping his afternoon snooze warm. Then he had the sash to take off.  
  
Qui-Gon's sash, dyed red over-night. Obi-Wan gave his master an apologetic glance at having to ruin it for the occasion. With no small amount of loathing, he unravelled the thing and carelessly hung it on the door knob beside him. Obi-Wan ducked inside the 'fresher for a wash. Even though Finis had caringly arranged one for him before Obi-Wan took his leave that morning.  
  
When he emerged from the wash, Obi-Wan found the sash folded neatly and placed on his pillow.  
  
"Master?" Obi-Wan poked his head out of his bedroom. "You're awake?"  
  
"I was never asleep!" Qui-Gon's indignant voice drifted in from the kitchen, Obi-Wan noted a lovely husky quality in it. "Merely, er, meditating."  
  
Obi-Wan chuckled.  
  
"Suit yourself Master, meditating at night and sleeping during the day, must be old age heh?" Obi-Wan teased.  
  
"You dare mentioning my age, young cub," Qui-Gon yawned even as he threatened. "I can best you in a duel any day."  
  
"Care to prove it Master?" Obi-Wan walked into the kitchen and began to nibble.  
  
"Is that a challenge?" Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at his Padawan.  
  
Obi-Wan looked tired, Qui-Gon thought, and hungry. He was always in such a state when he came back from his special duties. Qui-Gon politely looked away and pretended he didn't notice the young man trying to hide his hunger, eating ever so slowly. Obi-Wan was such a shy creature these days, one would think HE was the one with the vow of chastity and Qui-Gon the one with the position of the Torch Bearer.  
  
There was still a pronounced crease between Obi-Wan's brows. He was thinking about Qui-Gon's sash, and how pristine white it was when the master leant it to his apprentice.  
  
__________________________  
  
Obi-Wan did not do very well in the duel and he spent the afternoon sulking quietly to himself. Taking sometime out to be alone on a desolate balcony, he was glum at the sight of the meandering traffic in the sunset. It was cold and drafty, he hugged himself and at last let out a long sigh. The sound of which startled him, because he had always thought himself to be in an enviable position. He was young and well positioned in life. He fought and protected for his ideals. He had people who loved him, a great many of them. The Force. And Qui-Gon.  
  
He laid his palms flat on the balcony rails, and took deep breaths of air. Looking into the distance, he savoured his own melancholic mood. Closed his eyes and took a moment to search for the cause of his grief, it was quite a shock to finally touch it, a seething mass of passion. Obi-Wan shook his head, telling himself he'd get rid of THAT soon enough.  
  
__________________________  
  
Obi-Wan was rather embarrassed when he was invited to dinner by the Supreme Chancellor again that night. With an unreadable expression he told Mace Windu, the administrator so to speak of Obi-Wan's affairs, that he would attend. However, he informed the Councillor in plain words that he felt it was a breach of protocol even as he struck out the night's original appointment with a visiting ambassador for that evening.  
  
"The Supreme Chancellor did a very courageous thing today," Mace said before Obi-Wan could terminate the conversation. "Please show him OUR appreciation, Padawan Kenobi."  
  
Obi-Wan flushed with guilt. He should not let his personal indignation come into the matter. Nodding and even smiling faintly at Windu, he turned off the comm. He had his calling to perform, and he would not begrudge The Order that.  
  
Qui-Gon sat eating his supper alone in their kitchen when Obi-Wan went in for a bite of something. He was not too fond of the rich cooking served on the Chancellor's table, though, nor was Finis. Qui-Gon looked up from his table-side reading, a inter-temple news template, and without a word put together a plate for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan plopped down and began to eat, his mood lightening as Qui-Gon served him some home baked bread.  
  
"Another night of debauchery heh?" Qui-Gon chanced to joke when he saw the crimson sash tied about Obi-Wan's waist.  
  
That was a mistake.  
  
Obi-Wan stood up abruptly, though without spilling anything as he did not want to offend his master - merely avoid him and that stupid grin on his face. Turned on his heels and walked out the door swiftly. Qui-Gon sat back, blinking with hurt at the sound of Obi-Wan's good dress boots clicking loudly down the hallway. Finally, speeding up to a drumming bashing clamour as his padawan broke into a run to get away from him.  
  
__________________________  
  
Finis wore a very fine silk robe. Deep blue with detailed embroidery in deep-space black. But it was still cut in the same regimental style he preferred and the scholar's collar gave him even a bookish air. He was still wearing that damned stud in his nose. Obi-Wan studied the somewhat flushed face and the thin layer of perspiration over the chancellor's nose. The older man's nervousness was rather flattering, considering his status and quality of character. Yet, Obi-Wan held to his decision, perhaps he was firm about his principles, perhaps he was using them to suit himself, nonetheless, Obi-Wan was politely stubborn as he turned down the Chancellor' s offer.  
  
"It is not a damned Offer!" Finis finally lost his temper, or as well as a man with his good disposition of nature could lose their tempers. "I'm merely declaring my feelings for you."  
  
The Chancellor was also clever, but Obi-Wan was experience in such talk.  
  
"If it is indeed a declaration, Chancellor," Obi-Wan tactfully reminded the man of this status. "I take it at its best intention and thank you."  
  
"I don't want you to THANK me!" Finis closed his blue grey eyes, stormy with emotion.  
  
Oh Force, please don't let him weep! Obi-Wan prayed mutely, outwardly, he sat still and unmoved.  
  
"I don't mean to contradict you all the time, dear Obi-Wan," Finis took hold of his hand, paused for a minute trying to hold himself in check, then lost.  
  
Kissing the hand ardently he said. "But I want your love!"  
  
"Forgive me, but many people do," Obi-Wan smiled.  
  
Almost with a hint of satisfying cruelty he added. "And you've had your share."  
  
"For the love of Light, Obi-Wan, you can't enjoy what you do!" the Chancellor went rigid with anger when Obi-Wan relentlessly pried the older man's finger off his hand.  
  
"But I do!" Obi-Wan said. "I show people the glory of the Light, in a peculiar manner, I know, but you know it works."  
  
"But you're, you are. . ." the Chancellor was quivering with pain now, so Obi-Wan did not hate him for his bitterness.  
  
"A whore," Obi-Wan finished the sentence for him. "The most righteous and highly priced there is in the galaxy."  
  
"But it is not permanent," Obi-Wan said with pride. "And at the end, the Force will set me free and redeem what I have done in order to serve. Then, I can choose for myself."  
  
Finis lowered his head.  
  
"You will never choose me, will you?" the chancellor muttered.  
  
Obi-Wan smiled, his voice soft and wistful. "I have a vow of celibacy in mind, yes."  
  
Slowly, the chancellor looked up and there was new light in them, respect as well as admiration together with a hint of relief that no one else would possess this man.  
  
"I apologise for my outburst, Padawan Kenobi, it is not my place to question Jedi tradition" trust a politician to change their tune so quickly, Obi-Wan grinned.  
  
"You are a great man," Obi-Wan said as a final peace offering.  
  
But not good enough for you, Finis thought bitterly, but did not say so. He knew the Jedi could read it from his simple mortal mind.  
  
"May the Force be with you, Chancellor," Obi-Wan said and Finis gave him a casual nod and strode away to look out the window. It was rather black outside, so he was treated to the reflection of Obi-Wan shrugging nonchalantly at his taunt back and leaving with a small smile. For a moment, Finis felt a rage the likes of which he'd never known in his life. It was very dark and very nasty. For a split second, he wanted to turn against the Jedi, and use his political powers to adhere to the opposite of everything Obi-Wan had taught him. But at the thought of Obi-Wan's lessons the anger went away. He remembered the beautiful face beneath his own, telling him of the Light and how good it felt in its embrace, then, guiding Finis into his sacred body, showed him.  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi was right, Finis had been shown the way and could never stray now.  
  
"I do love you Obi-Wan," he said to himself. "And I will be gracious in how I thank you."  
  
The place was drenched in physical darkness and spiritual light. Obi-Wan did not bother to clean his face and hands when he arrived in the common room, thinking the night will keep whatever exhausted expression on his face from Qui-Gon. On ascertaining that Qui-Gon had not dozed off somewhere in the room, Obi-Wan began to pace about the maze of planets and books, deep in thought. All in all, he had not handled the situation too badly, he had not lost face for the Jedi, nor did he take advantage of a vulnerable man.  
  
Still, he felt disturbed and entrapped by his having to deal with such situations at all. He had always believed the body to be without scruple, thought of his as an instrument for the Light. But it was at silent hours like this that he wanted to have it for his own keeping, to keep it from mass consumption, so to speak. Just so that through this ability to control his right of offering, he could one day lavish it on someone not only deserving, but desired as well.  
  
He took the darkness as cover and began to undress, stripping his clothes off sensually, feeling his own skin with his palms and fingers. Until a small cry of ecstasy bloomed from his breast and he crumpled to the floor with wild delight. Panting in hushed gasps, relishing that no one but himself shared this one small sexual act.  
  
Obi-Wan nearly screamed with disappointment when the lights came on flooding the common room, tearing and dissipating the private moment. Someone breathed loudly, very close to him.  
  
"Qui-Gon?!" Obi-Wan scanned the room panicked. But no one was there.  
  
Then he looked up at the ceiling and saw his Master, with wide eyes and whipping long hair, levitated right above his heard. His meditation having been violently broken, Qui-Gon was spinning in dizzying circles, enduring a good dose of agony.  
  
Still naked and glowing with satiation, Obi-Wan gathered his limbs into a loose lotus and levitated to his Master's level, holding his palms out, he stopped Qui-Gon's tornado motion. Joined palm to palm they came down, falling ungracefully and hotly into each other.  
  
Qui-Gon was whimpering with pain, a horrible hurricane still assaulting his unguarded mind. Lust and desire, things Qui-Gon was never supposed to know, twisted and insinuated themselves into his mind. Qui-Gon gasped, clutching onto Obi-Wan's shoulders. The Padawan held him, stroking his back and crooned nonsense to distract the Master, patiently, until Qui-Gon stopped sobbing.  
  
"I am so sorry Master," Obi-Wan tugged the sheets under Qui-Gon's drawn and pale face.  
  
"No matter," Qui-Gon managed to utter through gritted teeth. "All I need. . . is sleep."  
  
__________________________  
  
Shockingly, it took Qui-Gon three days in bacta to make a half decent recovery. The Council was not pleased. Mace Windu was given the unpleasant task of breaking the news to the pair. Mace was not pleased either, he hated dealing with Obi-Wan, because each time he did, he felt as if he was abusing the youth. Just because Obi-Wan was Light-Cast and had his sexual duties to perform, it should not take away his personal right to live with his master. But the Council had made up its mind, largely because Yoda wanted to protect his former Padawan Qui-Gon Jinn.  
  
The pair sat grimly, facing him as the double doors to the suite opened. The look on their faces was as if Mace was a Sith striding in to break them apart. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were always fairly good at precognition, Mace thought.  
  
"You know. . ." Mace declined the courteous offer of a seat, he did not want to linger in a sad house, continuing on quickly. ". . .it was never practical to have the Torch Bearer living with a Cloister. The very nature of one's sexualised ability to express the Force and the other's conservation and study of pure Light is contradictory. You two have coped with it for a remarkably long time. Let's not make it any harder for the Force."  
  
The three shared a wary grin at the small joke.  
  
"I agree, Master Windu," Obi-Wan said.  
  
Qui-Gon nodded and smiled calmly. So it was done. The two gave him no trouble at all, and it made Mace feel all the worse. Immediately, Obi-Wan got up and went to his room to finish his packing, and Qui-Gon invited Mace to stay for tea.  
  
"Please, Councillor, keep me company for just a moment, so I don't go chasing him and make a scene," when Qui-Gon saw Mace was about to decline the offer, he confided out of Obi-Wan's ear-shot.  
  
Mace stood dumbstruck at the words, sank slowly into his seat and played with his hands.  
  
When they got into their second cup, Obi-Wan emerged with a large backpack in his arms.  
  
"I'm off then, Qui-Gon," he waved half-heartedly at the Masters.  
  
"Yes, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon took a long indulgent sip, not looking up.  
  
So they parted in the most pleasant manner of good friends. It was more excruciating to watch than Mace had ever imagined.  
  
__________________________  
  
The Force moves on, determined to have its way. Obi-Wan fucked the Light into more men everyday, and Qui-Gon advanced two levels upwards into sheer anti-sexual one-ness with the Force. Both played their parts exceptionally, half of the galaxy's men of importance wore various piercings to show their singular night of passion and self-knowledge with Padawan Kenobi - the Torch Bearer - the other half was probably, irrevocably, straight. Women of importance (let's not forget them) came and listened to Qui-Gon's teachings in the Public Hall every afternoon, attaining some great enlightenment each time.  
  
No one knew, or cared to express they knew, that both men were desperately unhappy. Except the Supreme Chancellor. He took time out of his busy schedule to attend Qui-Gon's lessons once a week, and every dinner reception Obi-Wan attended, Finis was there, growing more worried at the hollow brightness of the young man's eyes.  
  
One day, Qui-Gon was asked a question by his class of dignitaries and aristocrats.  
  
"What is love, Master Jedi?" a young woman ventured shyly. "And how should I know it?"  
  
This was the favourite young concubine of the emperor of the Western Rim. Her enlightenment might bring a great set of planets into the Republic, Qui-Gon was careful in how he composed his answer.  
  
"I have no real achievement in life," Qui-Gon began and shushed the protests of his audience, moving on. "Except one apprentice."  
  
The Chancellor's head snapped up and he studied Qui-Gon's face from his shadowed corner, seeing it glow for the first time in a long while.  
  
"I love him very much, but he does not stay with me, nor will he ever be mine. Because I love him very much," Qui-Gon said his piece and stopped.  
  
The concubine looked at him, puzzled. Qui-Gon smiled down at her, blue eyes shining with intelligence.  
  
"You were born to slaves, but you married a king. Your people gave you up to him, because they love you."  
  
The young woman looked startled. No one ever saw through how bitter she was at the betrayal, until now. The next day, Finis heard young Tasha-Emillie gave herself to the sanctuary of the Jedi - becoming a willing hostage and her ransom was the freedom of the slaves in the Western Rim. She became a heroine and Qui-Gon a hero. Gifts were bestowed upon them by various former slaves, friendship to Tasha and gilded plaques to Qui-Gon, but Finis had a gift of his own in mind.  
  
At the end of the next lesson, Finis stepped out from his concealment and approached Qui-Gon.  
  
"Dear Chancellor," Qui-Gon clasped his hands warmly. "It is good to see you."  
  
Finis laughed ironically. "I did not mean to hide from you, Master Jinn."  
  
Qui-Gon waved his hands to dismiss the half given apology. Whilst Finis was thinking that up close Qui-Gon looked far older than he remembered, more haggard and care-worn. Yet, it was common knowledge that the Master Cloister hardly leaves his rooms outside of class time nowadays.  
  
Finis was going to say something nice and eloquent when he gave Qui-Gon the velvet jewellery case, but he was caught up in Qui-Gon's gaze, which was focused in the stud still in the Chancellor's nose.  
  
"You're still wearing it?" Qui-Gon remarked, his voice so even and flat that Finis knew he was trying to hide some emotional turmoil. Just because the man is almost a saint, it doesn't make him less a man when it comes to Obi-Wan, the Chancellor observed.  
  
"I could never take it off after he put it there," he answered, tapping the small gold spot.  
  
"You hold a Light for him in your heart," Qui-Gon's gaze grew sad and knowing. "And you're proud to display that to the world."  
  
All Finis did in reply was to push the small box into Qui-Gon's hand and insist its acceptance. Qui-Gon smiled without comment, it would be rude to deny the Chancellor anything.  
  
__________________________  
  
It was one of those rare times when Obi-Wan wasn't out swaggering around with that sith be damned red sash. It's stilled the dyed one from Qui-Gon. Several times, Obi-Wan thought about giving it back, but when it came to it, he could not relinquish it anymore than he could the Light. It guarded him when he went to perform his duties. It comforted him afterwards with it's presence. It was good to cry into when he woke some mornings. Now it hung over the headboard of his bed, no longer a loathed sight, but a desired one.  
  
When the pounding began on his door, Obi-Wan pulled down the sash, flipped it to get the folded fabrics to loosen then used it as a sort of a shroud to cover himself. He walked to the door, mumbling angrily. It had better not be Mace and an urgent fuck mission, he bad mouthed to the Light.  
  
"You'll raise the Sith!" Obi-Wan called out as he flipped the door open with his palm ID. "MASTER!"  
  
"Good afternoon Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, he was still dressed in his virginal whites, white robes, sash, boots, ashen white face. "I was hoping you'd be up."  
  
"Good afternoon Master!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, tugging his shroud close at the neck, lest the sight of his neck would offend his Master. "What can I do for you?"  
  
Qui-Gon took a great gulp of air to his starved lungs then shot Obi-Wan a stern glare. Taking the hint, Obi-Wan moved away from the doorway and hesitantly invited his Master inside to speak.  
  
Qui-Gon was grinning from ear to ear when he sat down in front of Obi-Wan, who merely looked at him dumbly and tried to stretch a bit of red fabric to cover himself. The make-shift cover neglecting either his torso or his legs and embarrassing the younger man, till he too turned red.  
  
"Padawan," Qui-Gon eventually said, grimacing at how difficult speaking suddenly became.  
  
Obi-Wan quivered at the title. He had missed it for a long sad time.  
  
"Master," he finally answered.  
  
"Let us be reconciled," Qui-Gon opened his arms.  
  
"You're so formal!" Obi-Wan remarked.  
  
He wanted the Qui-Gon who snoozed after lunch and often got lost in their own quarters. The dear older man who cared for him even though Obi-Wan was the antithesis of everything he was. The Qui-Gon who when he fell from his great pristine heights, fell hard into Obi-Wan's arms, sobbing with need. Along with that secret hardness that burned into Obi-Wan's top left thigh on that disastrous night.  
  
So Obi-Wan stayed where he was, with a great big smirk on his face, until Qui-Gon lowered his arms and his blue eyes began to burn.  
  
"You will not come when I beck?" Qui-Gon scratched his nose with annoyance.  
  
"No Master," Obi-Wan grinned, mischievous fire dancing in HIS blue eyes now.  
  
"All right, Obi-Wan, what's your price?" Qui-Gon sighed.  
  
Obi-Wan kept mute on the matter, the crisis was over, he knew from the look in Qui-Gon's eyes that the bloody Light as come to its sense at last. Now Obi-Wan teased and savoured.  
  
"What if I came to you?" Qui-Gon offered, putting his hands onto to carpet, making as if he was about to crawl to Obi-Wan on hands and knees.  
  
"Enticing, but, No Master," Obi-Wan shook his head.  
  
Qui-Gon seemed to have suddenly remembered something, he took out a case and showed Obi-Wan a small gold earring and a gold stud.  
  
"One in my ear lobe and one in your. . ." Qui-Gon blushed as he said the word. "Cock."  
  
Obi-Wan giggled most distractingly. Then with all the clarity of Master Yoda, he said. "Piercing is good."  
  
"Oh!" it took a moment for Qui-Gon's eyes to widen.  
  
He clambered into Obi-Wan's welcoming lap, sat astride the undulating hips and said.  
  
"And if I were to offer my backside for the piercing?"  
  
"No one says backside nowadays, Master," Obi-Wan chuckled. "But if you were, I'd say yes. And to all the rest."  
  
And they kissed.  
  
The End:)


End file.
